


Makes Three

by cincoflex



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, promises kept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6198811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincoflex/pseuds/cincoflex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I felt Edwin needed to follow through on his promise. Short fluff!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makes Three

They were _all_ fluffy, excitable, and to Edwin’s way of thinking, far too enormous to properly be called puppies. Nevertheless, he stood back and watched Ana to coo as she knelt among them, letting the four tri-colored balls each vie for her attention with feathery tail wags.

In truth it was cheering to see his wife so delighted; she was more animated than she’d been in weeks, and her joy lightened his heart a little. They’d suffered much in the last few months; keeping this promise to Ana was a good start towards recovery for them both, Edwin knew. If the price for making his wife smile was putting up with a moving haystack, well . . . so be it.

So now here they were high in the hills of Rancho Cucamonga after reading the ad in the paper, dealing with the closest breeder of Bernese Mountain dogs.

Edwin sighed.

“Mis-ter Jarvis, they are all so sweet!” Ana burbled, holding up one puppy, who tried to wag his tail and lick her chin at the same time. “Have you _ever_ seen anything so adorable?”

“I have,” he replied, giving her a meaningful look; she blushed and laughed.

“Still a flirt, I see. Well you should have a say in the choice as well.”

“Ana, whatever you choose will be fine,” he told her, even as his gaze strayed to the edge of the crowd where one puppy was desperately trying to squeeze through. This one was smaller but all the more determined to reach his wife, and his pluck touched the man.

“What about _that_ one?” he murmured, pointing.

Ana looked over and reached out to the indicated puppy, scooping it up, her bracelets jangling a little. The little one’s tail wagged madly, and he wriggled in his eagerness at being picked up.

“Oh not that one, I’m afraid,” came a voice. Edwin looked up at the man on the other side of the pen. “He’s the runt, you see, and un-breedable because of those blue eyes. He’s to be put down.”

“What?” Ana blurted out, and Edwin felt his own sense of outrage rise up.

“He’s not up to standard,” the man continued, oblivious to her tone. “It’s all about the _standards_ , Mrs. Jarvis. Bernese Mountain dogs _must_ have brown eyes. It’s the American Kennel Club rules, so he’s going to be destroyed.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Edwin blurted. “As if he could help what color he was born with!” 

Ana had pulled the puppy to her chest protectively, and the look on her face sent a shiver down Edwin’s spine. He knew exactly what she was thinking, how all of a sudden this charming little outing had turned cold and painful with old memories. She rose, the puppy close to her. “I’ve made my choice, Mis-ter Jarvis.”

“Yes,” Edwin fished out his wallet as he gritted his teeth, “Yes, and an excellent one, my dear.”

“You don’t _want_ that one!” the man protested, still oblivious. “The bloodlines have to be kept pure!”

“No, no, we’ve overcome that sort of thinking,” Edwin told him as he thrust out several large bills. “In case you missed it, we _defeated_ the Third Reich and their agenda, thank you very much.”

Ana rose up, and gave the man a brightly false smile. “Yes. A victory for those of us with . . . blue eyes.”

Shrugging, the breeder took the money. “House pet only then. He’s useless for show and I can’t give you papers, you know.”

“We wouldn’t want them anyway,” Edwin informed the man in a chilly tone. He caught up with Ana as she marched back to the car, and once there, held the door open for her. Love and pride surged through him, and he turned to her after he got in behind the driver’s seat. “My dear, that was . . . amazing.”

“It was the right thing,” Ana shrugged, her focus on the puppy in her lap. “The _only_ thing to do. Killing an innocent animal just because . . .” her chin trembled, and Edwin slid an arm around her, pulling her slight frame closer as she sought his comfort.

In her lap, the puppy curled up as well, giving a contented sigh.

*** *** *** 

“Bolyhos.”

“I refuse to call him Fluffy in ANY language, my love.”

“But he is.”

“And I am tall, but nobody calls me ‘Stretch,” Edwin grumbled. “Names matter; he needs one, not an adjective.”

“So grumply! All right then, I will name him for my uncle.”

“And he was named . . . .”

“Andor. It means ‘manly’.”

“You _do_ remember we’re having him neutered?”

“Shhhhhh!” Ana chided, “He might hear you!”

Edwin looked perplexed. “He’s a dog, my darling; I doubt his command of English is as thorough as ours. And in any case it’s the truth.”

She looked up at him, her expression a blend of exasperation and love, and then back at the puppy in her lap. “You see what we have to work with, Andor? We’ve got to make Mis-ter Jarvis understand how smart you are, how good you are!”

“Ana,” Edwin murmured, feeling amused, “your smart, good little friend is . . . widdling on you.”

She laughed.

*** *** *** 

Although he was prepared to merely put up with the dog, Edwin found himself actually growing very fond of the bouncy and ungainly beast. Well-fed for the first time, Andor grew from a little handful of fur into a big-boned slightly gawky young dog. His coat shone from the daily brushings Ana did, and he followed her around devotedly, pleased to be near her wherever she was. 

Rather like himself, Edwin mused wryly. But Andor required more direction; a process Ana seemed to enjoy. They took him for walks each morning and evening, gave him beef bones from the butcher shop, and taught him the rudiments of dog manners: sit, stay, fetch, and lie down. Andor responded to the attention with puppy enthusiasm, and even though he seemed to have a passion for chewing Howard Stark’s loafers and detesting the Siamese cat next door, those were minor faults, Edwin felt.

He also assisted in rounding up Bernard the flamingo, and helped keep Nigel the koala sufficiently cowed, which definitely counted in his favor. Edwin appreciated having someone on his side, someone who didn’t laugh merrily when dealing with the menagerie Howard Stark insisted on maintaining on the estate. Andor was easy to talk to, and a considerate listener; he hardly ever interrupted and was generous with affection.

And Ana adored him. 

Edwin watched her throw the red ball across the lawn, saw Andor race for it, circling around after picking it up, and smiled at the sight. The easy sweetness of seeing his wife so happy made his chest light. Andor gave her something to indulge herself in, and gave back that love just as generously, his blue eyes bright, his bushy tail always wagging slightly.

He wasn’t a child, Edwin knew, but he was needed, loved, and appreciated. And in the end, that’s all that mattered.


End file.
